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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29453922">If only there could be another way to do this</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoundlessSolarSatellite/pseuds/SoundlessSolarSatellite'>SoundlessSolarSatellite</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Realization (is as good as it gets) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>National Football League RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Angst, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Secret Relationship, no beta we die like men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:48:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,702</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29453922</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoundlessSolarSatellite/pseuds/SoundlessSolarSatellite</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Through the crowd of shirtless players pointing and laughing, Ryan could see Tua in the middle of it all, pulling on an aqua jersey over a grey undershirt. Ryan’s eyes went wide, his mind short-circuiting as he straightened out the fabric over his torso. </p>
<p>That wasn’t just any jersey, that was a Ryan Fitzpatrick jersey. </p>
<p>Not just a random Ryan Fitzpatrick jersey, *his* Ryan Fitzpatrick jersey."</p>
<p>The grass is always greener on the other side of an epiphany, and every moment Ryan has spent with Tua has been better than the last. Being together has brought a clarity and euphoria the likes of which he's never known or felt, but Ryan knows that time waits for no man, and sooner or later, they're going to have to face reality.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tua Tagovailoa/Ryan Fitzpatrick</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Realization (is as good as it gets) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136381</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>If only there could be another way to do this</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! Welcome to the second installment of this series I'm writing. This one is a bit of an interlude between the first one and the third fic I'm working on. That being said this fic is still pretty plot important and it might not make a ton of sense if you haven't read the one before, so I would highly recommend doing that first.</p>
<p>This was once again super fun to write, I started on it as soon as the last one went up and after some initial speed bumps (writing sequels is hard) it all came to me pretty quickly, so that's always nice. Hopefully, this can live up to what I set up in the first one.</p>
<p>Anyway, I hope you enjoy! See you at the end.</p>
<p>This work has not been beta read, so sorry in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes.</p>
<p>Disclaimer: This is purely a work of fiction and is in no way indicative of how these people act or behave in real life. The characters at work here are merely based on the personas of real people that I personally have gleaned from what little I know about them and what they choose to present to the public eye.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn’t necessarily that Ryan was nervous. Okay, that was a lie, he was nervous as hell, but it wasn’t that he didn’t know it was a little silly to be nervous. He knew that it was. It wasn’t like this was some tinder date, where he was going in blind, based on nothing more than some superficial pictures and a vague feeling of lust and hope, though if he was honest, both of those feelings existed in his heart for this guy. No, he knew this guy, loved him even, had known him for months, knew things about him Ryan knew no one else did, and this guy had known him for months and knew things about Ryan that no one else did. And just the sheer fact that they had found each other under the circumstances was a miracle. Seemingly impossible. One in a million. Well, maybe that’s why he was so nervous. Maybe because the odds were so low, and the stakes were so incredibly high. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The streetlights ran in orange flashes through the cab of his truck as he turned down the long road, the low simmering pool of anxiety in his stomach ratcheting up a few more ticks. He took a deep breath to try and control his breathing, only to give up hope and abandon the technique entirely as he came to the end of the long driveway. Coming to a stop, he put it in park and turned off the ignition. He sat there for a moment, looking out at the house, glowing with light in the dark night, the small gaps in the blinds streaming light out into the porch. To his right, he could see the ocean, moving and undulating in the silver light of the moon where it was half obscured by clouds. Ryan got out of the truck, pausing for a moment to listen to the distant roar of the waves.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It had taken Tua one week to get everything in order and move down, and it had taken another for him and his family to get him completely moved in, his father, mother, and siblings sticking around to see him settled. So, it had been two weeks. Two weeks since they’d seen each other. Two weeks since they’d been with each other. Two weeks since Ryan’s life had changed, had shifted to this new frightening abyss of hope and understanding. They had texted every day, of course, even called a couple of times for a few minutes when it was safe, and though he was still nervous as hell, though the anxiety was rolling in his stomach, he’d longed for this. He’d longed for the moment when they could be together in person again, longed for everything hopeful this thing between them had promised, everything he’d wanted. He’d longed for the man he loved. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan took a step forward and walked to the house, pressing the doorbell. The sound of immediate barking made him jump, and he could hear a voice giving muffled firm commands that went ignored as the barking continued. Ryans heart began to hammer in his chest as the click of a lock sounded and the door opened, only for him to be bull-rushed by a golden streak of fur. Ryan staggered under the weight of the massive golden retriever, its paws plated firm on his chest, its giant slobbering face grinning up at him with large honey brown eyes.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dallas, no!” The retriever was yanked off of him, and Ryan saw Tua standing in the doorway, frowning down at the dog as it continued to grin up at him innocently. And Ryan felt his heart lurch just seeing him again, so close, stunningly handsome in his light grey shirt and jeans, his eyes finally, <em> finally </em>turning to meet his, that beautiful smile spreading across his face, and before Ryan knew it he was being bull-rushed again. Ryan felt a startled laugh break out of him as he found his arms full of Tua, felt his warm hands clutching at his back, his chest flooding with familiar warmth. Tua laughed too, low, warm chuckles.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I missed you," he murmured, and Ryan closed his eyes at that and hugged him tighter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Missed you too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After a few long moments, Tua pulled him into the house, closing the door behind them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry about Dallas, he’s just really excitable.” Dallas was already on him again. Sniffling and snuffling at his legs, nudging at his hands with his soft head, staring up at him with a mischievous look in his eye before he jumped up again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, Dallas!” Tua pulled him off again with a sigh. “He won’t listen to anyone but my Dad.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan laughed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s fine, really. Where's the other one? Did she stay with your folks?" Ryan looked around for the other retriever he'd seen in Tua's pictures. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Nah, I would never separate them. Star’s around here somewhere I'm sure. She’s pretty shy. Dally here is enough to make up for both of them. Right?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The dog's tongue lolled out of his mouth, and he looked happily up at Tua as he stroked his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan stared at him, his nerves still lightly fizzing through his body, but it had turned to giddiness, turned to euphoria, because this was Tua, and just being here close to him, seeing him, feeling the warmth in his chest for him. He couldn't help but step close to him and kiss him. Tua hummed contentedly into his mouth, and Ryan broke the kiss, wrapping his arms around his waist.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"It is so good to see you, Tua," he murmured into his neck.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"It's good to be seen. Come on, let's go outside." </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tua led him through the house they had looked at together just a few weeks ago. While mostly furnished, it was still a little sparse. Bookshelves still empty, the odd box shoved in the corner, a barren end table here and there. But Tua looked happy here, light and free and energetic, his different odds and ends beginning to fill up the space, momentarily free from conflict in his own house that he’d not only bought but chosen for himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He paused at the back door. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Don't judge me for what you're about to see. I uh, might have gotten a bit carried away." He opened the door for him, and Ryan stepped outside, his eyes immediately going wide.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was glowing outside. There were soft radiant lights strung up around the edge of the porch and torches stuck like stakes in the grass, alight with billowing tongues of flame. They stood tall, standing against the sky, challenging the vastness, contrasting the expanse of darkness, wild and intimate, creating a bubble of closed in light. Like being inside of a candle flame flickering gently enough to not burn you.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was more than a scene out of a movie or a novel. The one where you turned the corner and there was a perfect fairy tale scene and dinner complete with a marriage proposal and a promise of a happy future, all tropes Ryan had always found cliche and tired. But as he stepped outside and he took all of this in, basking in the feeling, the atmosphere. After so long of being alone, so long of hiding and going through the motions, this gesture, this way Tua had expressed his fondness for him, it felt magical and freeing and - and personal. So boundless and full of love that Ryan was floored. Floored but not surprised, because this was Tua. Tua who gave everyone and everything 110%. Tua who consistently showed him care and attention. Tua who loved him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I… wow… this is…"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"It's too much, isn't it? I'm sorry. I know we wanted to keep it chill, but I just thought-” Ryan stepped close to him bringing a hand to his face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, I love it. It <em>feels </em>beautiful. Thank you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Really?” His voice was small with insecurity but hopeful, and Ryan rumbled out a chuckle, feeling his eyes crinkling up with his smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You're a bit of a romantic, aren’t you sweetheart?” The pet name rolled automatically off his tongue, smooth and sweet as honey, and they both stilled at it, Tua looking just barely up at him with wide, dark eyes. And Ryan’s heart flipped because <em> fuck </em> he was beautiful, and <em> fuck </em> he’d gone too far. Why did he say that? Even if it felt right, why did he have to go a screw everything up?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was forced to stop thinking when Tua kissed him, long, slow, and loving.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, I guess I am.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They’d sat close together on woven mats in the grass under the halo of light, the stars sparkling above them. It almost felt reminiscent of that moment by the fire, but there was no cascading entropy of emotions, no wild untamed flames, no danger of being burned. Just him, Tua, and the food he’d prepared: a giant serving of pulled pork nachos (he’d remembered Ryan’s favorite because of course he had).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"How was the move?" Ryan asked, rubbing a strong, healthy strand of grass between his thumb and forefinger. It slipped through his fingers leaving a pale green smudge.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"It was… a bit complicated, but it was fine,” Tua said, smiling tiredly. "I'm just glad to see you again." </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan gave a small smile and patted his knee, staring up at the sky.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Me too… I’m so glad to be here. I never thought… I never thought I would ever be able to have this.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Have what?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There were feelings rushing around inside of him, intangible disbelief, faint nerves, limitless euphoria. Looking around at this scene, at this person, in the light of what his life had been just a few short months ago, all of this felt impossible, like he’d somehow stumbled across the most obscure timeline.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just… I dunno, this. It seems crazy to me that at my age this is really my first serious date. For so long, I thought I would never be able to do this with someone. For so long, I thought… I thought I would be alone forever, and that was just the way it had to be. It seems crazy to me that - that we found each other, and that you’re still here, and that you did all this for me…” He trailed off just in awe of everything it meant to him, everything Tua meant to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He breathed in deep and let it out slow, unencumbered, feeling light and unburdened, nothing weighing down his breath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m glad it was you, Tua,” he said, grabbing his hand with a squeeze, trying to convey how thankful he was, how grateful he was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’d do it all again for you. Know that Ryan, I’d do all of this and more for you,” he murmured, smiling and taking Ryan’s hand in both of his.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Promise?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Promise.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan leaned and kissed his cheek briefly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"So who's bright idea was it to name them after the Cowboys?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"If you're referring to Star and Dallas, it was my <em> incredible </em> idea to name them after the greatest football team on the planet."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Oh come on, the Cowboys? Really?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Yeah, that and I was like 14 at the time."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After dinner, they’d sat talking and laughing in the grass, the light emanating from the wild torches around them. Their words growing smaller, their sentences shorter, until all that remained was quiet. Tua was cross-legged next to him, the ukulele in his hands filling the air with color and warmth. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan listened to the music from where he’d laid in the grass, fingers laced behind his head, a feeling of complete calm washing over him. He wondered briefly like this, why he had been so nervous before when track record after track record of their history had shown that Tua wasn’t going anywhere, when time after time, again after again Tua had accepted him, and when it was just so easy with him. Even on their first date, even now that they were together, that hadn’t changed. If anything, if it was somehow possible, Tua had taken better care of him than before. Of course, it was natural to be nervous, but there was something underneath, something there that even now was still pulling at him. Even now as he listened to Tua play rubbing his hand over his crossed knee, even as he knew that right here in this moment he loved this man, and wanted to be with him for- </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan stiffened as it finally occurred to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>One month. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>That was all they had. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>One. Month. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>One month of this before training camp. 30 short days before reality set in. And suddenly then and there, even still 30 days out from the reckoning, 30 days away from the fear and danger, Ryan felt his heart seize, felt the anxiety, the pain and fear, the crushing dread and urgency flooding through him at everything that was about to come.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You okay?” Tua had stopped playing to run a hand over his forehead gently. Ryan looked up at him, saw the concern in his eyes, and he swallowed against everything that had surged up inside of him. Tua… Tua was so… so good. He was everything good. And Ryan loved him. He loved him so much. He’d do anything to protect him. He… </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He would protect him from this for a while longer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan shook his head once to clear his thoughts and smiled up at him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah. Hey, will you - will you sing to me?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan had learned many things about Tua in the last couple of weeks. Ryan knew who his favorite football players were. He knew how he liked to spend his free time. He knew how good he was at video games. Ryan knew how he liked to deflect. He knew how to read between his words. He knew the things about himself he was most proud of and insecure of. Ryan knew how he liked to be kissed. He knew how to touch him just right to make him arch and tremble. He knew how he liked his eggs cooked in the morning. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And now he knew this about Tua’s house: if you weren’t too afraid of heights (Ryan was), and you were willing to carefully work your way down a steep, sharp, ocean-mist-slicked collection of boulders, and if you were willing to navigate your way over a narrow, slippery walkway that might as well have been the size of a wooden plank, there was a small beach in the shadow of his cliffside house. Obscured and touching the ocean, full of coarse, rocky sand and sea glass. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Tua had pulled him out of the house into the blistering heat one weekend afternoon claiming he had a surprise and gesturing to the treacherous path, Ryan had told him he was crazy, but after some coaxing, a little teasing, and a promise of help, he’d agreed to risk life and limb. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tua made it look easy, his bare feet gripped the rock as he navigated his way down with deft experience. Smiling brilliantly as he held out his hand for Ryan to hold as he took his next careful, timid step. And while Ryan had practically gripped the cliff face with his entire chest as he shimmied across the “path,” the tumultuous surf crashing on the sharp rocks below him, Tua had already <em>run </em>over it, calling encouragement from his perch on the next rock. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And though Ryan was sure they would both die gruesomely, he had to admit that it had been worth it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Because Tua was Tua, when they’d finally tumbled down the last few rocks there was a whole ass picnic in the shadow of the cliff because of course there was, and of course, Tua’s shy smile was the most adorable thing Ryan had ever seen, and of course, the sandwiches he’d gotten for them were more than delicious enough to justify the calories.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And they’d sat and eaten on blankets in the shade of the cliff, the high noonday sun glittering on the peaks and crests of waves like shimmering pixels, the mist from the ocean kissing their skin, sticking to the fine blondish-brown hairs of Ryan’s exposed chest, arms, and legs. There was no hiding his dad bod with the shadow of darkness here. He was on full display.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How’d you find this place anyway?” Ryan was still in amazement of this perfect little spot, his sunglasses perched on his head as he looked out into the clear summer day from the small beach, hidden and sequestered away like the perfect little secret. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I climbed down the cliff,” Tua said casually, stuffing an apple wedge in his mouth, and Ryan’s mouth dropped open.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You did what?” Tua just smirked around his mouth full, taking the time to finish chewing before he responded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I climbed down the cliff. I used to climb cliffs all the time with my brother back home.” He laughed, sticking his hands behind him in the sand and leaning back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Mom would take us to the beach and we'd run around playing for hours. Taulia and I used to pretend that we were Kings of the ocean who could control the water, and we would use that as an excuse to crush my sister's sand forts." He closed his eyes and grinned, distant and reminiscent before he opened them and looked up at the sky.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"But most of the time, when I went to the beach it was to train. Me, my father, and my brother. Those hard, grueling days at the beach, that was where my love for all of this began.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan listened closely from his position next to him. It was rare to catch Tua like this, reminiscing and caught in the past. He was usually someone who kept his head forward, someone who seemingly had a short memory, someone who Ryan knew didn’t like to dwell in the past because of what he would find.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“...Do you miss home often." Ryan looked at him as he worked the question over in his mind, waited patiently for his thoughts and emotions to solidify enough for an answer. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Yes and no. I think about it every day, though." He sat up and wrapped an arm around Ryan’s shoulders, pressing a long tender kiss to his cheek.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I'll have to take you there sometime. Here's good for now though. You’re here with me after all," he whispered, nuzzling in the crook of his neck affectionately.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan turned his head then and kissed him. “I’d go anywhere with you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah?” he said, grinning against his mouth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hell yeah.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Even if I asked you to climb down another cliff?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan scowled. “That’d be a low blow, but I’d do it for you. I’d probably call you a dick the whole time, but I’d do it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tua laughed, giving him a gentle shove. “Yeah, yeah whatever, don’t pretend like you’re not glad you came down here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am Tua, thank you. This is wonderful.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tua smiled softly at him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course, Ry,” he said pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Be right back. I need to cool off."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tua stood then, and pulled his white shirt over his head, leaving just his grey trunks, before wading out into the waves. The water rippled around his waist, up to his lower back and shoulder blades as he went deeper and deeper into the cerulean water before he finally dove completely under. He surfaced a few moments later with a light grin, spitting out water, his hair plastered to his forehead as he began to drift back to the shore. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Christ, he was gorgeous. The water winding in paths down his chest and shoulders, following the lines of his toned body, the deep rich color of his skin glowing in the high sun, the air of strength he carried as he set foot on the wet sand. Tua was staring at him, into him, eyes dark with an intensity that made Ryan shiver as he walked towards him, seafoam rippling around his ankles in the sand. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan was in awe that he was there to witness it. That he was there at all, sitting sated and full on the sand in the shade of a cliff as this kind, incredible, thoughtful man strode towards him, who had done this all for him so they could be together, just them, just for a moment, just here. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the past couple of weeks, Ryan had had the most incredible, happy, and enlightening time of his life. Every new experience they’d had together, every new memory and moment they’d made together, every feeling he’d long suppressed that he’d gotten to express over every caring word and tease and touch and kiss and fuck, it had all been incredible because of him. Because of everything he’d given Ryan.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And he didn’t have <em>time </em>or <em>room </em>in his heart to think about their borrowed time or their realities. Not like this. Not here. This was paradise. He was paradise, as he settled wet, warm, and half-naked in Ryan’s lap, hands tracing up his chest and face, his fingers leaving trails of moisture as he kissed him deep and full, pushing his tongue into his mouth. Ryan groaned at the taste of salt and sweet fruit, as he was pushed down into the sand, the texture of it rough and cool against Ryan’s skin, his hands coming up to rest firmly on Tua’s lower back as their legs intertwined, his body flooding with heat tinged with longing for this man, his power and strength making Ryan shudder and humble as their bodies pressed together, all his thoughts and worries fading away in favor of this moment and this person. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Right here, in this present, with his person, the future felt ages away. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>For this, for him, he could protect them from it for a while longer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The movie had long since ended, the credits had long since passed, and the “are you still watching?” screen of his Netflix account had long since come up on the screen. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan ran his hand over Tua’s head in his lap like he had been doing for the past several hours, his fingers digging in the soft curls of his hair and down his nape and neck, before running back up again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was quiet but Ryan wasn’t calm, he wasn’t comfortable, and what was about to happen was anything but easy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sure, his body was relaxed. Tua’s head was a heavy warm weight in his lap and his hair felt wonderful on Ryan's fingers. His heart wasn’t pounding. His chest wasn’t heaving. He couldn’t hear the rush of blood in his ears, but as he stared up at the ceiling, tracing the shadows the dim lamp made with his eyes, he was withering inside. Fading like the light from the room. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Borrowed time. This whole time they’d been on borrowed time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And it was time to pay up. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>In just a few short days the future would be here. Football came like the tolling of a bell because it was inevitable, and for so long it had ruled over his life, it had ruled over Tua’s life, and that didn’t change just because they had found each other. What was acceptable didn’t change because they loved each other. The fact that this was unavoidable didn’t change just because Ryan didn’t want to face it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And sure they had spent every free moment together, they’d cooked together, they’d eaten together, they’d trained together, they’d worked out together, they'd talked together, they’d sang together, they’d slept together, they’d made love together. Every moment that hadn’t been taken by their jobs they had been together and every waking moment of being with Tua over the past month had been the best time of Ryan’s life. But it hadn’t been enough. One month hadn’t been enough. Not even two would have been enough, or three or four, or eight hundred. Ryan knew now that no amount of time would have been enough, especially in the face of what they had to do. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But they had to do it. And Ryan could feel that familiar fear, panic, and paranoia coming back except ten times as strong because now it wasn't just him at risk. Now it was also someone he loved. And Ryan could feel himself shrinking back, pulling away from it. Something surging in him frantically telling him to protect them, to get them to safety.</p>
<p>They had to do this for the sake of everything, for the sake of their jobs, their lives, their families, for their safety. They had to do this for the sake of each other. Ryan had to do this for Tua, he had to protect him, he <em>had </em>to. He would never forgive himself if something happened to Tua because of him, if his brilliance was stamped out because of him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ry… Ryan let up a bit. That hurts."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan hadn't noticed his hand had stopped moving, hadn’t noticed when he’d begun to curl his fingers into his hair, his grip painfully tight on the strands. He immediately let go, jerking his hand away like he’d been burned, as Tua sat up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry! I - I didn’t notice-” he quieted as Tua shushed him gently, scooting in close to rest a warm hand on his leg.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he murmured, before looking Ryan in the eye.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s wrong Ryan?” Ryan looked away, still trying to clamp down on this, still trying to cling to borrowed time. Tua’s hand guided his face back to his. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please, talk to me. Please,” he pleaded, his concerned dark eyes flicking back and forth between Ryan’s, and Ryan knew there was no more hiding from this, no more ignoring this. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He had to do this. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He took Tua's hand from his face and held it in both of his.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tua, we need to talk.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>The rules were in place for a reason. To keep order, to keep things from getting messy, and, perhaps most importantly, to keep people safe. The rules had been clearly defined. They had been sent in countless emails, gone over in countless zoom meetings, and they were posted on signs around every corner. But even though Ryan knew the rules, that hadn’t stopped this from feeling strange or uncomfortable. He’d been through 15 training camps in his time, more than anyone else in the locker room, hell, more than most of the coaches. But this training camp was shaping up to be like no other. </p>
<p> </p><ul>
<li>Keep your mask on at all times</li>
</ul>
<p> </p>
<p>The packs of cloth masks Ryan kept in his locker were depleting faster than he’d expected them to. When they left the field after practice, masks of all shapes, colors, and sizes littered the ground like confetti, and his heart ached for the poor interns who walked around stuffing them into garbage bags. And though he’d never <em>seen </em>it, Ryan was sure there was just an entire storage room somewhere in Baptist Health stuffed to the gills with boxes of disposable masks. Considering this was the NFL, it was very likely. Hell, the staff had probably received an entire shipping container full of them with a note that said, <em> Wear these or else. -love Roger Goddell</em>.</p>
<p> </p><ul>
<li>Whenever possible maintain social distancing</li>
</ul>
<p> </p>
<p>There was a clear glass shield between every locker, you weren’t allowed to sit with anyone at lunch, and in the film room, you had to have an empty seat on either side of you. The rules had severely cut down on every interaction, every conversation, every moment of connection you were allowed to have. Being six feet apart for some of the guys was like yelling across a chasm and it had considerably slowed every interaction Ryan had both feared and taken for granted for years.</p>
<p> </p><ul>
<li>Keep all physical contact to a minimum </li>
</ul>
<p> </p>
<p>People tapped forearms where they would have shaken hands. Touches to the shoulder replaced a friendly hug. Coaches gestured where they would have physically corrected you. Even in practice and on the field where they were allowed to stand close, people seemed to understand that keeping their distance was important, necessary to the greater cause.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And of course, there were a billion other little things they were expected to remember and do. Everyone had their temperature taken every morning, and they were tested right after. There was hand sanitizer at every doorway. And though it was a young group, Ryan was proud of the maturity they all showed. There was no bitching, no diva-ing out about being inconvenienced. They all followed the rules. They kept their heads down and did the work, did the grind every day, and if nothing else Ryan was impressed by that. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yeah, this group was different. He could see the fire in the eyes of every man putting in the work every day. From veteran to rookie a consistent desire to get this done. There was a change in the atmosphere, a seriousness that was palpable, there was a culture. Built upon firm foundations laid by the year before, a standard set by Coach Flores and every leader that had been there. They were hungry. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But the rules weren’t fun. They didn’t lend themselves to comradery or solidarity. Having walls between them wasn’t good for connecting to people. When you couldn’t see a person’s true smile, it was harder to relate to them. When fist bumps and dapping up were frowned upon, it was harder to reach out. The sterile atmosphere the rules created was safe, but it was cold. It was devoid of that warmth, that specific feeling of a team coming together, gelling together in the way that was more than just on-field chemistry. In the way where you shared pictures of your kids and referenced old college antidotes. In the way that allowed you to become a unit, a squad that lived and died by each other in the warrior way you had to as a football player.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan was used to this. He’d spent years like this, carefully detached from everyone else, aligned strictly to the rules. That didn’t mean he liked it. That didn’t mean he didn’t know how hard it was for everyone, including him. That didn’t mean he didn’t know how important a healthy and developed team dynamic was to success. It didn’t mean he didn’t feel sorry for all the rookies who were having to navigate this strange Covid environment on top of being thrust into a fast-paced cut-throat league fresh out of college. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But he should have known better than to think that any set of rules could have held Tua. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His natural charisma flowed under the harshest of circumstances, and from the moment he’d first stepped foot through the locker room door, people were drawn to him like moths to flames. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His humor, his intelligence, his wisdom. His work ethic, his talent, his strength. His humility, his ease, his down-to-earthness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His warmth seeped through walls and could be felt across distances. His smiles and laughter could be seen and heard through masks. The tap of his hand on your helmet or the weight of his hand on your shoulder pads was laced with care and attention. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He never broke the rules, he was too responsible for that, but he found ways to weave around them. He found ways to make connections and build teamwork. And it was by his and others' example that people started to loosen up a little. They let themselves unfold and open, and slowly, they all began to be closer over the distance. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>What was strange about it particularly for Ryan was that Tua and him, not just by virtue of them both being quarterbacks but by other things that they couldn’t mention, were close, way closer than anyone in the facility knew, but close in a way that was easily observable, close in a way nobody had seen be close to Ryan Fitzpatrick in his entire career, and since Tua was so approachable, that suddenly made Ryan approachable as well. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>People began to talk to him, reach out to him in ways they hadn’t in years. Suddenly, people would come to him to seek advice, they would ask him about past teams he’d been on and other stories he’d seen around the league, seeking to push past the quarterback persona he’d set up to placate them, and though it was scary to Ryan, every warning bell in his head going off to keep himself away, that it wasn’t safe, with Tua by his side easing the way and even acting as a liaison of sorts, he found himself comfortable enough to participate. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He did it slowly and carefully, of course, he still had to stick to the rules, and he was still awkward as hell sometimes and slow to respond, but he had to admit it was a nice feeling to be included, to feel ever so slightly understood by those around him even if he still didn’t trust them. His advice on the field especially was seen as extremely valuable, and as time wore on he began to give it more freely, even unprompted despite it drawing attention to himself. He had all this knowledge, why not give it out to this well-deserving team.   </p>
<p> </p>
<p>So yes, the rules were necessary, they weren’t fun but they were necessary. It was necessary to keep them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was necessary to make them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tua, we need to talk.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He stiffened, looking at Ryan warily.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“...what is it?” he asked quietly. And Ryan swallowed nervously, trying to grasp what he was trying to say, trying to condense his thought into some form of coherent mass.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We - we need to talk about our future,” he finally blurted, and it came out terrible and wrong, because of course it did, and he could see Tua’s eyes widen with hurt before he was even done saying it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re breaking up with me.” His voice was small and for some reason definitive like he’d been expecting it, and he looked away, his hand going lax in Ryan’s grip.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No! No, I’m not. I’m not. But… there's just a couple of days until camp, Tua. I think we need to be ready for… what that means for us.” He pressed on the words and on Tua’s hand, trying to get his thoughts in order.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just- just hear me out.” He waited for Tua to look back to him and took a deep breath</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think we need to set some rules.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tua furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes slightly cloudy with emotions in the dim light.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Rules? You want to make rules?" He sounded slightly confused.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I - I think having clear definitive boundaries is the only way to do this safely. We're Quarterbacks Tua, players, coaches, the media, everyone is going to be watching our every move. And if we slip-up once…" He trailed off, staring into the distance, his fear and anxiety building up so sudden and in his face that his words died in his throat. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I - I don’t even want to think about it,” he finally uttered, and he saw the look of understanding in his eyes, the concern, the apprehension. Tua closed his eyes, drawing his hand into his own lap. He sighed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ryan… I know you probably know better than anyone what it takes to do this. You've been here way longer, and - and I trust you, but… are you sure? Are you sure we have to? I just… I don’t want…” his voice trailed off with a note of vulnerability, and Ryan reached out to lay a hand on his back, feeling the tension in his shoulders, the shortness of his breath, and his heart flooded with pain for him. But… </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know Tua, I know. I don’t like this any more than you do, and - and it won’t be easy, but we have to do this, Tua. The stakes are too high otherwise. If anything happened to you because of me… I don’t think I could stand it. And I know this sucks, but… please. Do this for us. Do this for me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was quiet for a long time as Ryan waited for him. Finally, he nodded, sitting up to take Ryan’s hand again, a look of resignation in his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay. Okay, I trust you. I’ll do this.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p><ul>
<li>Keep your mask on at all times.</li>
</ul>
<p> </p>
<p>Discussing their relationship outside of closed doors was not allowed. As much as it hurt, they had to keep up the appearance of being just close friends, mentor and student. You never knew where people were. You never knew who was listening. Any slip-up could see them outed to the world and losing everything. Any slip-up could see either of them or both of them taken out in practice by their own teammates. As much as it hurt to hide, keeping their masks up, keeping their facades in place was absolutely necessary. </p>
<p> </p><ul>
<li>Whenever possible maintain social distancing</li>
</ul>
<p> </p>
<p>Though as quarterbacks they were together often, spending the entire day together was not allowed. Free moments they could grab together in the busy, grueling days of training camp had to be rationed out appropriately. People couldn’t be allowed to wonder why they spent so much time together, so if they were apart that couldn’t happen. Diverting suspicion by maintaining separation was absolutely necessary.</p>
<p> </p><ul>
<li>Keep all physical contact to a minimum </li>
</ul>
<p> </p>
<p>Kissing, hugging, holding hands, really any touching below the shoulder was not allowed. Any tender touch could be seen for what it really was, and though comforting and reassuring to them, it had the potential to blow up everything they so carefully worked for. And though their relationship relied heavily on touch, to communicate, to support, to remind, assimilating into the culture by keeping every touch purely platonic was absolutely necessary.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There were other rules like no pet names or flirting via text or in person while in public. No referring to the length or depth of their interaction before training camp in detail. No showering together under any circumstances. These rules were way more strenuous than any training regimen or drill the coaches could have ordered them to do. They were far more grueling than the hours of intense scrimmaging in the blistering Miami heat. They were way more taxing than any rule or Covid protocol the NFL could have mandated they follow. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>For Ryan to spend all day with his lover while having to completely ignore what he meant to him hurt his heart so deeply he could barely stand it. Having to watch him perform and stretch and work and run and throw all while not being able to <em>touch </em>him was the most frustrating thing he’d ever had to endure. Having to turn his back on him when he could so they wouldn’t appear suspicious was by far the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And he knew Tua felt it too. He could see it in the longing look in his eyes, feel it in every too long touch to his shoulder or his helmet. He could hear it woven into his words as they went over plays together on the sidelines. He could hear it as he spoke to others, laced in every lie he had to tell, in every workaround he spun to prevent them from knowing the truth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Day in and day out together but apart. Having to bite back his words of affection, having to reign in his touches, having to ration their time, having to control his urges and desires 24/7 because it didn't end after their grueling 12-hour workdays. They didn't get to go home to each other. The dormitories full of their teammates ensured that this painful distance was maintained even overnight, so much so that they could even risk a phone call. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>This was torture. This - this dissonance fronting as consonance, this separation fronting as togetherness, this isolation fronting as unison. It was pure utter torture that left Ryan aching for him in so many, many ways, but the rules were absolutely necessary. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Leave it to Tua to find a way around them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan ran his finger over the screen of his tablet as he swiped to the next play. He furrowed his eyebrows as he studied the film, finger poised on the progress bar at the bottom of the screen as he moved the film back and forth. The din of the locker room was quiet in the back of his head as years of noisy rooms filled with men had trained his mind to filter out the distractions. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, Ford,” he called to his locker mate. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He heard a muffled grunt, and looked over to his left to see wide receiver Isaiah Ford still bare-chested and rubbing a towel over his wet hair. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, uh sorry, man,” Ryan said apologetically, averting his eyes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nah, what’s up Fitz, you see something on the film?” Isaiah and he had been signed to the Dolphins around the same time, and while they hadn’t necessarily been close, Ryan certainly had respect for the guy. Ford was a hard worker, and much like Ryan, he was friendly but quiet, preferring to keep to himself. That made them a good pair and somehow they had ended up as locker mates for the past couple of years. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, I was just thinking we could adjust this route here a bit." He held the tablet up to the clear shield between them and pointed best he could to the play. “If we adjust it a few yards back it’ll be able to find the soft spot of most typical zone coverages.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ford hummed. “Yeah, yeah, I was thinking the same thing. I'll catch my position coach after the meeting and see what he thinks.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan nodded and went back to the film. He swiped to the next video, which was of Tua running the same play. Ryan watched his smaller form on the screen in his red quarterback jersey. He ran the playback and watched it again in slow motion, biting his lip behind his mask. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Three weeks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It had been three weeks since they’d parted ways and ended up here.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Three weeks of long glances. Three weeks of being close without being able to be close. Three weeks of distance. Three weeks of having everything that he wanted in front of him and not being able to take it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Three weeks of being on an island, unable to support or be supported, unable to love, unable to be honest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He sighed and closed his eyes, down inside of him he could feel a thread of something desperate running through him. That was how he felt, desperate. Having Tua by his side but not truly being able to be with him or have him for three weeks now was like dying of thirst while holding a glass of ice water in your hand. It was like having an itch you couldn’t scratch, a wound you couldn’t tend to. It was starting to take its toll on him, having to watch him, having to sit and see every display of athleticism, every exquisite throw, every showcase of his power and strength. Having to see and never being able to indulge, never being able to act on the gut-wrenching feeling of arousal, every second filled with tangible tension, every touch or glance of eye contact that lasted too long or was filled with too much.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was maddening. Ryan didn’t know if it was possible to die from pure sexual frustration, but they were about to find out because they still had weeks of this, they still had an entire season of this, an entire future of this left to go. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But even more than all that, Ryan just missed him. Missed being able to be close to him mentally and emotionally, missed being able to bask in his brilliance, missed being able to be close and supported without this - this heaviness. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He longed for those summer days on the beach or in one of their backyards when everything was simpler. When they didn’t have to hide and they could be themselves and be with each other without the threat of danger.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He took a deep breath and swallowed his bitterness, pushing down the feelings and flames roaring through him. He had to be strong. He had to stick to the rules. He had to keep them safe. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The tapping of Ford's finger on the glass between them knocked him out of his feelings.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You need to get your rookie bruh. He’s wild.” Ford was laughing as he said it, pointing across the locker room. Now, Ryan could hear the increased chatter and the buzzing of laughter from his teammates. Curious he looked to where Ford’s finger was pointing then did a double-take.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Through the crowd of shirtless players pointing and laughing, Ryan could see Tua in the middle of it all, pulling on an aqua jersey over a grey undershirt. Ryan’s eyes went wide, his mind short-circuiting as he straightened out the fabric over his torso. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>That wasn’t just any jersey, that was a Ryan Fitzpatrick jersey. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not just a random Ryan Fitzpatrick jersey, <em> his </em>Ryan Fitzpatrick jersey. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The silver 2019 patch on the shoulder was from last year. Ryan put the same patch commemorating the year on each of his jerseys, and he remembered placing it there himself before he’d hung it up in the back of his closet with the rest of the jerseys he'd kept from all his years in the league. It was slightly big on Tua, just a few inches too long, and just a little too wide. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The numbers 1 and 4 were stitched proudly over his chest and back in white bordered with orange, and Ryan could tell he was grinning behind his mask as he smoothed jersey down over his chest for the benefit of the fawning, guffawing crowd of players that had gathered around him, eager for any form of entertainment. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tua turned around, pretending to wipe dust from his shoulders, and Ryan swallowed, his mouth going dry, blood flooding low in his body as his eyes were immediately drawn to the white-orange block letters spelling out “Fitzpatrick” stretched over the nameplate on his back. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He saw Tua turn his head over his shoulder, and he caught Ryan’s eyes through all the cacophony of noise and bodies, pining Ryan deep with his stare causing him to tense. His dark eyes were dripping with sensual power sending a bolt of hot fire to coil low and thick in Ryan’s gut, every ounce of desperation and frustration he’d felt and suppressed over the last couple weeks, every urge and desire he’d had but hadn’t been able to act on springing to the forefront of his mind, washing through him hot and sudden like a torrential downpour. Then Tua winked at him once and turned to grin back to the crowd of players all jovial and full of laughter, mask firmly back in place, and <em>holy fucking-  </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan was grateful that one, he hadn’t groaned audibly, and two, that the tablet was covering his lap because he was already rock hard in his jeans, and <em> fuck </em> that wasn’t <em>fair</em>, that wasn’t-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You alright Fitz?” Ryan jerked, his heart lurching at Ford’s voice. He was looking at him with concern through the clear glass, and he immediately pulled himself together, letting a lackadaisical air fall over him.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“Oh, uh, yeah man. Yeah, I’m good.” Ryan cut his eyes back in Tua’s direction, taking one last second to rake his eyes up and down his form, soaking in every detail of his silhouette and the way he looked in Ryan’s jersey. Sealing it away for later.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That Tua is a clown for sure, bro,” Ford said laughing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah. He’s something else.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Keeping himself together during the meeting had been near impossible. Every 30 seconds like clockwork he would allow himself a glance at Tua sitting across the room to his left. He had his notebook in his lap, the number 14 on his chest on proud display, and he wrote in the book periodically, but oftentimes when Ryan looked over, Tua was staring right back at him. Eyes dark and deep with that same look that made Ryan crazy, and <em>dammit </em>that so wasn’t fair.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was so lost in his thoughts that he barely heard Coach Flo end his final speech.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We've had a productive three weeks, so we’re giving you all the evening and tomorrow off, get some rest, go home, see your families, but above all stay safe and responsible. I want you here bright and early Sunday with no goddamn positive tests, alright?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was a chorus of agreements and “yessir"s.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Alright, dismissed.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>People cheered and began to drift out of the film room, palpable excitement in the air, some already making plans. Ryan’s eyes had never left Tua’s who’s were still glued to his. Without breaking eye contact he reached for his phone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Come to my dorm. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He watched him receive it, read it, and respond.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Okay </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>One of the benefits of being a veteran was that you didn’t have to room with anyone else, and since Ryan was nearly a decade older than most of the guys on the team and had been a veteran for nearly a decade longer than even most of the other veterans, that meant he was a veteran amongst veterans and that meant he not only got his own room, but an entire hall on his floor to himself that he only shared with one other person: the other oldest veteran Kyle Van Noy on the defense, and considering Van Noy had waved goodbye to him with a bag over his shoulder as he left the dormitory with a slew of other players, it seemed his hall was empty for the night. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The parking lot was already basically empty, as most players had left as soon as they could to see their families and friends.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan still checked though. He gave it one hour for everyone to clear out, then he pulled his mask on and walked around to every door on the floor, even the ones he knew were unoccupied, and listened for activity.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nothing. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan fast-walked back to his dorm shooting off a quick text as he did so. He sat waiting on his bed, scrolling through his phone momentarily.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hundreds of people on Twitter had now seen Tua in Ryan’s jersey. His timeline was full of @s from fans sending him the pictures from the media session Tua had proudly done in his jersey. They were all fawning over it, obsessed with the wholesomeness of the young rookie paying respect to his mentor not knowing that Tua was wearing <em>his </em>jersey, not knowing that he was making a statement, not knowing that what Tua had done was basically sidestepping the rules. He’d however indirectly broadcasted to the locker room, to the coaches, to the league, to the media, to the entire world that he was Ryan’s, and <em> fuck </em> that had a nice ring to it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A knock sounded at his door, one quick sharp tap, and Ryan sprang to his feet, taking the short distance between him and the door in three long strides. He yanked the door open and pulled Tua in quickly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Did anyone see you?" </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"No, no, no one saw.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Good."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He pinned him to the door with a hand on his shoulder, pausing to just long enough to make a show of turning the lock. The click echoed around the room, and Ryan took a deep breath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s my shirt.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That same deep look was in Tua's eyes as he reached up between them to pull off his mask revealing his shit-eating grin before he reached across to pull Ryan's off of his bearded face. The masks fell to the floor, and Ryan could feel everything cascading inside him like a chain reaction, rushing, roaring to the top of his mind, and it only took Tua digging his fingers into the back of his neck for Ryan to finally, <em> finally </em>surge forward and kiss him, deep, powerful and bursting, pouring everything he’d been feeling and wanting into it, hoping to communicate somehow beyond words everything that had been aching inside of him for the past near month. And Ryan could feel <em>all </em>of it back, could sense the intense desperation with every push of tongue against his own, could feel it woven into the hands in his hair and grasping at his back, and he took a step forward to press Tua to the door, hands raking over his jersey covered chest and sides, pushing with his fingers and palms, pressing, trying to make up for every touch he’d been denied over the past three weeks. Tracing the stitched in numbers because they were <em>his </em>and Jesus fucking Christ that made everything flame <em>hotter </em>inside of him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan flipped him, taking half a second to run his hand across his name stitched out over his back, before pressing him bodily to the door, feeling Tua's choked moan resonate through his chest. He was hard as nails where his pelvis met the swell of Tua’s ass, and he canted forward achingly slow and firm, pressing his hardness against his with a roll of his hips causing them both to groan. He could feel the air rushing out of Tua's chest. Ryan’s heart was pounding as he fisted his hand in the fabric on his torso, his other hand wrapping around Tua’s waist and hips as he rutted against him, kissing and biting up the column of his neck. He was panting now, every elapsing second, every ounce of stimulation seeing his control slip further through his fingers like sand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck, you feel what you do to me? I’ve wanted you. I’ve wanted you so bad I can't fucking stand it.” He growled it, pleaded it, nuzzling almost frantically into the space where Tua’s neck met his shoulder.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuckin’ take me then," Tua hissed jaw tight, pulse quick where Ryan's hand was fisted over his chest</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan full body shuddered, but through it all, through the storm of arousal and desperation, he felt relief, felt the surrender of Tua's control to him and the surrender of his own control to his desire, and he took a moment to press a tender, reverential kiss to Tua’s cheek. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He pulled him away from the door by the back of his shirt, turning him again to kiss him, his mouth gravitated to his lips as they stumbled to the bed shoved in the corner, kicking off shoes as they did so. Ryan felt fingers tugging at his belt and the hem of his shirt, and he separated them just long enough to pull his over his head before bringing their mouth back together, Tua's hands now dragging through the hair on his chest and up the skin of his back. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The back of Ryan's knees hit the edge of the bed and a hand on his shoulder shoved him to sit. He went willingly, staring up at Tua as he shucked out of his jeans before pulling him in at the waist, hands running over the warm skin of his lower back beneath his shirt as he pressed his face into his stomach. He could see the shape of his erection through his boxers, and Ryan ducked his head to mouth hot and warm over his cloth-covered cock. Tua moaned above him, threading the fingers of his right hand through Ryan’s hair, tugging slightly sending a wash of brilliant sparks washing over Ryan’s head. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He reached up to pull his underwear down over his hips, letting his cock spring free, and Ryan continued to mouth at it, running his tongue up the underside, nuzzling with the wiry hairs of his bearded cheek, before finally taking the head in his mouth. The hand in his hair tightened.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ah fuck, Ry…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His raspy voice floated over him, laced with desperation and pleasure as Ryan sunk down on his length, digging his fingers into the flesh of Tua’s lower back causing him to buck his hips forward. Ryan stiffened as he choked, pulling back slightly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shit, sorry, sorry,” Tua said stroking the back of his head apologetically.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan shot him a look but continued, slowly working the length of his dick down his mouth and throat until his nose was pressed to the teal fabric of his own jersey over Tua’s stomach. He swallowed around him, causing Tua to let out a long ripping moan, the fingers in his hair tightening even further.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck, fuck. Ryan please.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan pulled back hollowing his cheeks as he did so and continued sucking up and down his length, running his tongue over the veins on the underside, brushing and flicking over the ridges on the head, enjoying every tug of his hair, every moan and gasp, every plea and praise, enjoying the weight and feel of it in his mouth, every twitch and pulse that told him he was doing something right. He took the entire length down, swallowed again, and gave a long low hum</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Holy fucking shit- </em> Ryan… Ryan, I’m not gonna last." Ryan could hear his breathing starting to pick up, fingers trembling on his shoulder. He pulled off then, grasping his shoulder and standing up to kiss Tua, shoving his tongue into his mouth and grabbing his hip to press his erection into his thigh with a groan.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wanna fuck you,” he gasped pushing his face into his neck.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yessss,” Tua hissed into his ear. “Please, please, want you so badly.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His voice was wrecked with desperation, and Ryan’s own responded back in kind at his plea, sung through his blood frantically. He pulled away long enough to yank off his belt and step out of his jeans. From the corner of his eye, he saw Tua take the hem of the jersey in his left hand, moving to pull it off, and Ryan gripped his arm, stopping his motion.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, leave it on.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He swore Tua’s eyes darkened. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Fuck yeah.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan manhandled him to his stomach on the bed then, and Tua groaned at the rough treatment as Ryan stood over him, reaching into his boxers to pull out his cock, blood roaring at the sight of Tua naked save for his own jersey face down and spread out for him, his name and number spelled out in block letters over his back. It was almost enough to make him come on the spot. He moaned working a loose fist over his dick. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You're so fucking beautiful.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, fucking hurry up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan snorted, pulling his underwear off completely. “Oh come on, it’s rude to be impatient while I’m trying to compliment you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tua just shot him a look over his shoulder, before grinding his hips into the bed with a groan.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This is gonna happen with or without you Ryan.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck, alright, alright, hang on.” Ryan scrambled to the old nightstand and grabbed his bottle of lube, before settling on his haunches between his spread thighs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, clearly you’ve been getting a lot of action.” Tua drawled as Ryan squirted some of the half-empty bottle on his fingers. And Ryan laughed, a quick burst of joy shooting through the tension because this felt familiar, the teasing and bantering that was personal and intimate to them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, if you count my own right fucking hand, every night for the past three weeks,” he said warming it up in his hand, before leaning up to plant his other next to Tua’s shoulder, hovering over his back, and nuzzling reverently over his name on the back of his shoulder blades. The red flush of his neck and face contrasted beautifully with the cool blue-green of the jersey</p>
<p> </p>
<p> “And every time I was thinking of you, sweetheart.” He moaned as Ryan inserted his first finger in one long smooth motion and <em> fuck </em> he was tight. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Come on, relax for me, sweetheart,” Ryan murmured into his neck, as he twisted his finger in a little further. “Take deep breaths.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck Ry, keep talking to me.” Tua grunted, sucking in a breath as Ryan began to pull his finger out and push it back in slowly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I would watch you throw and run at practice and think about this. Think about opening you up for my cock and fucking you," Ryan rumbled, as he picked up his pace. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Yesss, please..." </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck, your throw is so hot, makes me hard every time I see it, and it was all I could do to not fucking take you right there.” He added another finger, twisting and pushing deeper.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’d come back to this bed every night and get off thinking about how much I wanted you like this all day. Sometimes I’d-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em> Fuck </em>right there, right there.” Tua moaned underneath him as Ryan pushed against his prostate again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sometimes I’d fuck myself on my fingers and think about the last time we did this. You remember that? When you stretched me out and fucked me so good. I think about that all the fucking time, do you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck yeah." He groaned, pushing back on Ryan’s fingers, and he added a third, spreading them out and stroking over his inner walls. Tua panted beneath him, arching as Ryan’s fingers brushed over that spot again, and Ryan groaned at the image of him stretched out and desperate on his fingers, hair mussed and flushed red in his shirt. Ryan bit at the junction of his neck and shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“Fuck I wanna be inside you.” Ryan pushed his cock into his lower back, and Tua thrashed beneath him, his chest and sides moving rapidly now, frantically as a desperate, frustrated growl came cracking and crumbling out of his mouth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Fucking <em> do it </em>then, <em> please</em>, please, plea…” he trailed off into a long high pitched whine, and Ryan stilled. He’d never heard Tua sound like this before. He'd heard him desperate yes, even heard him beg before, but never like this. Never - never so strung out like this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tua… are you alright?” Ryan leaned in close to see his face. His eyes were closed, breath coming short and fast, hands curled into white-knuckled fists, his shoulders vibrating with some sort of manic tension. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tua, please talk to me. Take a breath and talk to me, sweetheart. Do you want to stop?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He sucked in a shuddering breath, Ryan could see his jaw tensing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It's fine, I’m fine, It’s just… please, It’s been so long, Ryan. I’ve missed you so much. I wanna feel close to you. Just… just please. I want you to make love to me.” He opened his eyes then, and Ryan could see every ounce of longing and heartbreak he'd suppressed, every toll and hurt these past three weeks had taken out on him, and Ryan's heart both broke and ached in return, and he kissed him then, tender, stroking a soothing hand over his face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course. I have you, Tua. I gotcha.” He spread his fingers once more to check the stretch, before pulling them out. He tapped Tua’s hip. “Get on your knees for me sweetheart.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He came to his knees, resting his weight on his forearms. “Please, Ryan, please.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan knelt behind him laying a hand on his cloth-covered back, spreading his fingers out wide, he shushed him gently. “I’m here, I’m here.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He used his other hand to slick himself up, being sure to add more than he thought was necessary before he lined himself up with one hand and leaned over Tua's back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You ready?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Yes</em>, yes, <em> please.</em>” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay, sweetheart.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He pushed forward, running his hand up Tua’s back as he did so, groaning as that tight wet heat enveloped him. Sliding in slow, Sinking carefully into tortuous heaven, as he slowly and delicately worked his way into the warm body of his lover. He grunted as he finally bottomed out, feeling as if the air in his chest had been stolen from him. He planted a hand near Tua’s shoulder and leaned over him, wrapping a grounding arm around his chest as he pressed against his back, pulling his chin over his shoulder to claim his mouth in a searing kiss, Tua panting into his mouth softly before Ryan pulled back to look him in the eye.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How are we?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good, 's good,” he whispered, pushing back against him, taking him just ever so slightly deeper and they both groaned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck, are you good, sweetheart? Can I move?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, fuck me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan shuddered and pressed one more kiss to his cheek before he straightened upright, gripping Tua’s hips he slowly drew back, enjoying the feeling of the agonizing, exquisite stretch of flesh over him, and pushed back into that warm wet sensation, heat flaming, growing deep in his stomach as the pleasure washed over him, demanding more. Moaning he pushed in a little harder, building a rhythm with long, smooth rolls of his hips, reveling in every gasp of breath, every moan of pleasure, every twitch and movement from his lover. Soaking in the feeling of pleasure, soaking in the feeling of being so intensely, impossibly close to the man he loved, physically, mentally, and emotionally, the body beneath him moving in sync with his as the tempo and rhythm increased, the flame in their blood demanding it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck you feel so good,” he murmured softly, reverently.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re so good for me Tua, you take me so well.” He grunted, pressing in firm with a twist of his hips. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yessss, please Ryan, harder, give it to me.” He gasped it, drifting like smoke over his back, as he pushed back on him fast and hard, and Ryan moaned long and low, before settling his hands on his lower back to gain more leverage and driving in fast and hard. The slap of skin echoed through the room woven through their moans and gasps of breath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Fuck, you like that sweetheart? Is that good?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck yeah, fuck yeah, right <em>there, </em> just like that,” Tua moaned long and loud and Ryan kept up that angle, the head of his cock dragging over his prostate, with every thrust. “Ah fuck, I’m close, I’m so fucking <em> close, please, please- </em>” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan shushed him again, leaning back over him, pressing him down bodily, and grinding deep over that spot that he knew would drive Tua crazy, swallowing his scream with his mouth, before straightening back up and resuming his rapid pace, keeping the pressure up as he worked a hand around to his stomach, rucking the jersey up enough to take his cock in his still slick hand, working him over in long steady pumps. Tua jerked into his fist at his touch, groaning freely, breath coming huffy in the way that Ryan knew meant he was close.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I gotcha, Tua. Come on, come on…” Ryan breathed. His own breath coming fast and hard, his heart pounding in his chest, the coil of heat in his body growing impossibly tighter as the sensations built and built on top of each other.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan felt more than saw when he came. The clear burst of tension, then release, the spasming working its way through Tua's body, the immediate clench of pressure on Ryan’s cock, his breathy gasping moan resonating through the hand Ryan had on his back, all of it feeding back into the circuit of pleasure between them as Ryan felt his balls drawing up close to his body, his rhythm beginning to falter, as he fucked Tua through his orgasm. He moved his hands up to his upper back, fingers bunching the fabric of his jersey just below the nameplate as he drove in faster and harder, frantically seeking his orgasm as he stared at his own name. Words flowing from his mouth visceral and primal before he could even think.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck, that’s <em>my </em>name. <em> My name, </em> Tua. Mine. You’re fucking <em> mine</em>.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tua chuckled tiredly, his voice rasping and wrecked from screaming. “All yours Ryan. I’m all yours.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryan moaned low in his chest as he felt the rush hit him, and he leaned over him again, pressing him down, burying himself as deep as he could in Tua’s body before he came. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>They were both breathing hard, and Ryan had just enough energy to gently pull out before he collapsed onto the small bed next to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Almost instantly Tua pulled Ryan to him, turning over to wrap him up close, running his hand tenderly over Ryan’s hair and Ryan closed his eyes and leaned into it. His limbs strung out and tired, aching pleasantly, warmth blooming in his chest because more than anything else he'd missed this. He wrapped his arms around him in return fisting a hand in his shirt over Tua's chest just to feel his breathing and heart rate, just to be sure he was actually here. Holding him close because it just felt so good to be able to touch him and be near him and <em>be with </em>him again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Fuck, I've missed you so much." Ryan's voice was thick with emotion now. He could feel the beginnings of tears in his eyes and he buried his face into the 14 on his chest, the hand continuing to stroke over his hair.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know Ry, I know. Me too.” Tua's voice was thin and small in the room, and Ryan could feel the tension in his chest and shoulders, could feel the shallowness of his breath, and the tremble of his fingers in his hair as he fought to remain strong, and Ryan ached for him in so many ways, wished against all odds and hopes that things could be different, that there could be another way to do this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Instead, he just held him tighter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Held him closer because he didn’t know when he would be able to again.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Soooo, does anyone else remember when Tua wore a Ryan Fitzpatrick jersey to his very first media session after the draft, or is that just me? </p>
<p>I don't know how a super wholesome moment like that turned into this in my head, but it did so... yeah. I really can't wait to explore what happens next for these guys. I think it'll be really interesting.</p>
<p>Anyway, this was super fun to write, and I really hope you enjoyed it.</p>
<p>The next fic in the series is in the works so stay tuned. That being said it's a pretty long and serious concept and I want to be careful writing it, so it'll probably take me more time than this one to get it done right.</p>
<p>Please leave me a comment telling me what you thought, as well as any criticisms you may have for me. I would really love to hear what you have to say about this fic!</p>
<p>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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